


Float With Me

by TheTurtleFromHell



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Reconciliation, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25659061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTurtleFromHell/pseuds/TheTurtleFromHell
Summary: Isaac knows that inaction can hurt just as much as actions do. So how do you apologize for the things you didn't do?
Relationships: Hector/Isaac Laforeze
Comments: 10
Kudos: 36





	Float With Me

_ The castle shook behind him. He needed to hurry, he needed to find him. _

_ Weaving through collapsed buildings and debris from the bridge collapse, Isaac finally saw him walking down one of the smaller bridges, one that had somehow remained steadfast in the wake of destruction. _

_ “Hector!” he called out. The man continued, as if he had said nothing. Isaac cursed under his breath, breaking into a sprint. Even though Hector was walking at a much slower pace, he somehow kept getting farther and farther away. _

_ Suddenly, the silver-haired forgemaster turned. The sight of his bruised face left Isaac breathless, as if someone had knocked the wind out of him. Hector’s mouth moved, but all that came out was choked sounds. _

_ There was the sound of clinking metal. A metal collar appeared from thin air and closed itself tight around the man’s neck, a chain shooting off into the distance and pulled taut by an unseen force. Isaac was paralyzed, could only watch in horror as Hector was dragged away, feet kicking and desperately trying to find any purchase, hands clawing at his throat as strangled noises escaped his mouth. _

_ “HECTOR!!!” _

* * *

Isaac shot up out of his sleep, holding a hand to his chest as if to calm his pounding heart. For a moment it was as if he’d forgotten how to breathe, before his lungs finally drew in air. He swallowed hard, quickly looking around the room. The bed on the opposite side was empty.

Sighing, he took a moment to gather himself, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his hand as he stood and grabbed his clothes from the trunk in front of his bed. Even when he wasn’t in slumber, Hector plagued his thoughts...

In the beginning when they had left Styria together, Isaac took them to Miranda’s cottage as it was the only place he could think of to take the battered and injured man at the time. The choice worked out in the end. 

She didn’t look like it, but Miranda had quite the extensive medical knowledge. Hector managed to avoid amputation of his mangled finger as she painstakingly sutured muscle and skin together like a skilled seamstress of flesh. He managed to drink the healing broths she cooked and choke down the bitter healing potions without complaint. With each passing day his strength was slowly returning and yet he never spoke a word.

At first Isaac feared they had severed his vocal chords, having heard of the cruel punishment being practiced among human prisoners. 

But that theory went out the window as soon as he heard the man speaking to Miranda in hushed whispers. He seemed afraid to speak, as if his voice would cause disaster if used too much.

Miranda, being as wonder, wry and witty as she was, slowly managed to coax the forgemaster out of his shell. They spoke of magic and seafood dishes amongst other things, nothing more than idle conversation.

But Hector still hadn’t spoken to Isaac, and the older forgemaster was more bothered by it than he liked to admit. Yet it made sense, as by now Hector probably knew Dracula had never been planning a cull. He wondered if Hector was aware that Isaac knew the truth and he didn’t.

The more he thought about it, the more he thought the reason for the silence was that Hector had found out and blamed him for the entire mess. Truth be told, Isaac didn’t blame him.

Hector couldn’t betray a plan he had no idea about, that he had realized, and Isaac’s silence on the matter only served to push him in that direction.

How could Hector ever forgive him for that, let alone speak to him?

Isaac pushed open the bedroom door and took a few steps into the kitchen, surprised to see only Miranda at the table, reading an old tome of her.

“Where’s Hector?” he asks as he sits, taking a slice of bread.

“Went for a swim.” she said as she flipped the page, “Said something about how calming the water looked and such.”

Isaac blinks, “Hector can swim?”

He’s not quite sure why the idea is so surprising. Maybe it's because he always envisioned Hector as the type to live among woodland critters.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asked, “Or is there some sort of magical barrier preventing the two of you from talking to each other?”

“I’m giving Hector his space.” he says matter-of-factly before biting into his bread, “He’ll approach me when he’s ready.”

Or maybe not at all, but Isaac kept telling himself it was what he deserved.

Something in Miranda’s expression changes, softens. Her look is something between concern and endearing amusement.

“Have you considered he might be thinking the same thing?” she poses as she puts down her book.

Isaac blinks in surprise, “What would I need space from?” he asks.

“I don’t know, go ask him yourself.” she says, smiling coyly.

The forgemaster weighs his thoughts for a moment before standing, “You’re a conniving and manipulative woman.” he tells her as he heads out the door.

“I know.” she laughs to herself as she picks her book back up, “It takes two people to build a bridge Isaac, remember that.”

Her riddle bothers him the entire walk to the docks.

* * *

The ocean was emerald in color, sparkling in color as the sun reflected upon its surface. Occasionally, a small group of fish could be seen under the shadow of the dock, taking shelter around the structure to avoid the seagulls looming overhead.

As he walked to the end of the pier, Isaac saw Hector’s shirt was neatly folded and his shoes placed beside it. And yet there was no sign of the man.

Isaac’s heart leapt into his throat, immediately fearing either a drowning or sudden riptide. His brief moment of panic ended when he saw Hector break through the surface of the water, taking a deep breath of air and wiping the water out of his eyes.

His wet, white hair seemed to glow in the sunlight as water ran down his body, still rather thin but filling out nicely.

He blinked as if clearing his vision, before suddenly spotting the other forgemaster and gasping in surprise, “Isaac?”

“Hello.” he said as he sat down, taking off his boots, “I didn’t know you could swim.”

“Well, I lived on an island.” Hector shrugged with a small awkward smile, so small that it was barely noticeable.

Isaac smiles back as he dips his toes into the chill water, “I can’t even remember the last time I went swimming.”

Hector looked up in surprise, “You can swim?”

“I took trips to the ocean as a boy.” he said, “The beaches have miles of beautiful white sand. I remember trying to bring home a jar of it once, to keep a piece of the beach with me. It broke open on the way home and I was inconsolable for the rest of the day.”

“That sounds like quite the sight.” he says wistfully, “The white sand I mean, not you crying.”

“I figured.” Isaac said, “Mind if I join you?”

Hector glanced between him and the water, as if asking it for permission, “Sure.” he says.

With that, Isaac tugs off his shirt and pushes himself off of the dock and into the water. The ocean was only up to his knees at this point, so he walked until he was almost to where Hector was, where the water came up past their hips.

He watched as Hector dipped back under the water, until only the tips of his hair remained at the surface. Hector began to float limply in the gentle waves, facing down as he hung suspended in the water. It reminded Isaac of a bobbing corpse, except corpses didn’t have bubbles coming from their mouth and nose.

Before long Hector broke the surface, taking a deep breath as he smoothed his hair back.

“You look like a corpse when you float.” Isaac said.

“I like floating, it’s what I think flying must feel like.” he replies, before asking “Do you know how to float?”

“I don’t float.” Isaac replied as he sank down, sighing as the frigid water came up to his shoulders, “I always sink when I try.”

“Maybe you just never had a good teacher,” he hums in thought, before patting the water, “Come over here, I’ll show you.”

Isaac looked to him, expecting a ‘just kidding’ or snort of laughter. When there was none, he blinked, “Seriously?”

“It’s a good skill to have.” Hector shrugged, “Come over, I’ll help you.”

Isaac sighs, but nonetheless walks over, “Fine.”

As much as he hates handing over control, his desire to find ways to connect to the other outweighs that hate.

‘Building bridges.’ he suddenly recalls, but manages not to say it aloud.

“Alright.” Hector says as he steps behind Isaac, placing one hand to his upper back and one to his lower, “Just lay down.”

“Do I cross my arms?” Isaac asks, thinking he heard or read something about it once.

“It’s better to just let yourself hang loose,” he answers, “Oh, and don’t panic if your arms or legs go under, the important thing is to keep your head and chest above water.”

“Alright,” Isaac breathes as he lays back onto the water, shutting his eyes as he does so. He holds his breath for a moment, until he realizes Hector is still holding him up.

“Don’t let go,” he says, quickly adding “Or else I’m drowning you.” as to not sound like a frightened child.

“I’m not.” Hector assures. To his credit Hector keeps his promise, hands holding firm along Isaac’s back. It’s a strange sensation to Isaac, having someone else act as his root to the Earth, the only thing keeping him from being swept away to sea (or at least unpleasantly being dropped into the water). 

He rises and falls with the water, his body gently rocking with each passing wave. It brings a sense of peace that Isaac is hesitant to let in. He’s not sure if it’s because of the new experience, or because of the issue he had been meaning to bring up.

“Isaac?” came Hector’s voice, breaking through the swirling whirlpool of thoughts.

Isaac opened his eyes and looked up at him. His head was blocking the sun, causing its light to radiate around him like a halo. He’s breathtaking, Isaac realizes as if he’s laid eyes on the man for the first time.

“Yes Hector?” he replies nonchalantly, acting like there wasn’t a torrent of flustering thoughts going through his head. 

“You were… quiet is all.” Hector said thoughtfully, as if he sensed something was afoot.

In the back of Isaac’s mind alarm bells were ringing, telling him not to bring this up when Hector could easily shove his head under the water in a moment of anger. A breathful of water would be all it would take (it was remarkable to Isaac that a body that housed such a complex system of sentience was horrifyingly fragile. A pillow over the face, a cut to the right place, or even stepping down the steps wrong could be all it took to snuff out what God created in His image.)

Fuck it. No better time than the present.

“Hector…” he began, taking a deep breath, “Have you ever been angry at me?”

“Angry?” he echoed incredulously, “Why would I be angry?”

“Because I didn’t befriend you.” Isaac says.

Hector looked at him, then shrugs, “It was… frustrating, I think. But it wasn’t anything new.” he explains, “You forget that I lived alone in the countryside purely to avoid such things. You’re only human, after all, and I don’t have a very good track record with humans. No offense.”

“None taken.” 

“So to answer your question, I’m not angry.” he smiles assuringly, “You’ve never done anything to deserve my anger.”

“But that’s precisely it,” Isaac sighed as he began moving back onto his feet, standing with a determined aura, “I didn’t do anything.”

Hector stared at him, as if searching his eyes for clarity, “I don’t understand.”

He doesn’t reply right away, but when he does he asks the question that’s been on his mind, “What if we had been friends?”

When Hector met his gaze with a baffled expression, he continued, struggling to speak past the pounding in his chest, “What if we were friends, what if we had looked out for each other and…” his voice trailed off, “What if… I’d been able to see what Carmilla was doing and warn you.”

Hector says nothing. He simply just keeps looking at him with that soft gaze that somehow manages to pierce through him. Isaac now doubts Hector had truly ever even considered the circumstances before, but he certainly is now. Isaac knows he deserves whatever anger is stirring within Hector, knowing that inaction is just as bad, if not worse than action more often than not.

Surprisingly, as the moments tick on, Hector’s expression doesn’t change in the slightest.

“I find more often than not, that ‘what if?’ is a dangerous question.” he says matter of factly, “‘What if I’d done something different? What if I said something else? What if I hadn’t burned my parents alive?’. I’ve given up that question long ago.”

“Just because you don’t think about it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen,” Isaac argues, forcing his voice to remain steady. Forgiveness was so much harder to accept than anger, so much harder to understand, “You of all people know that inaction does not absolve responsibility. We were generals, it was our jobs to look out for each other.” he points out.

“Not if Dracula wanted to die.” Hector counters, “I know that if he had known what fate held for me, he wouldn’t have let me go forth with my betrayal. But Carmilla and I spoke about it aloud, and you know just as well as I do that the castle itself was his eyes and ears.”

The revelation causes a tight knot in Isaac’s throat as he realizes Dracula had been expecting the betrayal, had allowed it to go forward, therefore contributing to both their fates. He shoves those thoughts aside for another day.

“Still,” he protests, “It doesn’t matter if it was what he wanted or not, I am apologizing for my part, for not helping-”

“You weren’t in a position to help, Isaac!” he interrupts, “You forget that you were ready and willing to die for Dracula, you were torturing yourself every single day just for being born a human.”

Isaac tenses, “It was holy mediation.” he replies, glaring.

Hector’s soft expression remains steadfast, “Was it?”

There’s a long moment of silence, broken only by the waves crashing against the mortar and wood of the docks and seawalls.

“I’m not saying there weren’t things that could have been done differently,” Hector spoke softly as he stared at the water, “I am just saying that neither of us were in a good place at the time, obviously… and perhaps, we can both be in a better place now. If you want to be.”

“Why wouldn’t I want that?” Isaac asked hesitantly, as if his voice had forgotten how to work.

“I thought you were still upset with me for what I did to Dracula,” the younger forgemaster confesses, “Wasn’t that why you weren’t talking to me?”

Isaac can’t help the way he stares at him incredulously, nor the sudden laughing fit that erupts from his throat as he doubles over, clutching his stomach as it begins to ache. Hector doesn't seem able to help himself either as he joins in, stuttering out “What? What’s so funny?” in between laughs.

“This entire time,” he chuckles breathlessly, wiping away a tear with a wet hand, “We’ve accidentally been giving each other the silent treatment!”

“Wait, you think I’ve been-” Hector snorts, “Since when did I seem the type to give the silent treatment?”

“Since you insulted Godbrand, right in front of the entire council no less.” he chuckles as he recalls the offended look on the viking’s face.

Hector scoffs, “You did it too!” he argues as his face turns beet red, “And the only reason we got away with it was because he was lower than a human to them, and everyone but him knew it!”

Isaac bursts into hysterics for a second time. Hector, flustered and not thinking straight in all definitions of the phrase, impulsively splashed the other forgemaster with a large wave of water. In the span of a second, Isaac stops laughing and is wiping the water from his face as Hector realizes his action.

“O-Oh my god,” he gasps, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t-”

A large splash of water shuts him up. He sputters and blinks the salt water from his eyes, met with the sight of Isaac smiling smugly.

“Oh.” Hector smirks, “So it’s a fight you want?”

“I live for the fight.” Isaac replied coolly, crossing his arms.

* * *

Like most men, they come to regret their war in time.

It was when the sun began to set and a chill settled in the air, they realized the consequences of their actions.

“This sort of change in weather should be illegal,” Isaac says as he helps pull Hector out of the water.

“Oh, but couldn’t you just throw on a cloak or eat a piece of meat?” Hector chuckled to himself.

Isaac scoffed and rolled his eyes, “You should watch what you say to someone who can push you back into the water.”

Hector said nothing, instead holding himself tightly as a cold breeze rushed past them. Isaac hummed in thought, walking up to one of the abandoned homes and testing the lock, before kicking it open.

Hector yelped in surprise and whipped around at the sound of cracking wood, “What the Hell!?”

The older forgemaster disappeared into the house without a word, coming back out a few moments later with a heavy quilt half wrapped around himself, holding the other side with his open arm, “Come on.”

He blinked, “Are you sure?”

“I’m becoming less sure by the second,” he sighed, “Hurry before I keep it for myself.”

At that, Hector quickly grabbed their shirts and boots and hurried under his arm.

“Thank you.” he smiles gratefully as Isaac holds the blanket around them, a little worried about getting too close.

Isaac smiled back as he warmed, not from the blanket but from something stirring in his heart, “Don’t worry about it.” he says as he pulls him closer, “Worry about Miranda when we have to walk across her floor and get it wet.”


End file.
